Playing Cupid
by MrsColette
Summary: Finding herself sent back to 1977, Hermione settles in to wait while Dumbledore tries to find a way to send her home. Given no help other than "try to maintain the integrity of the timeline," which is absolute rubbish, she bides her time. Shocked at the relationship between James and Lily, she decides to try and help.


Whomp!

Hermione slammed the book shut, angry to still be no closer to a solution to this mess. She had been stuck in 1977 for almost two months now, and she refused to believe that Lavender Brown, of all the daft cows, could be responsible for something that she couldn't fix. The witch had been furious when her relationship with Ron ended, and had confronted Hermione in their dorm room early one morning. Hermione had done her best to avoid engaging the idiot, but that had only incensed her further. The last she remembered of 1997 was placing her hand on the doorknob of her room, eager to get to breakfast and away from the harping witch. When she came to, she was in the infirmary, a younger Madame Pomfrey fussing about, her tittering about the unknown witch appearing in Gryffindor Tower her first clue that something was very wrong. Luckily, it had been a Saturday when Lavender confronted her, so she hadn't been wearing her school robes, the slightly more modern cut would've been difficult to explain away. She asked to see Dumbledore, hoping that he was still present in this era. When the nurse bustled away to retrieve him, she Accio'd a Daily Prophet and had been flabbergasted to see the date was March 13, 1977, almost twenty years to the day that she had been residing in previously. Dumbledore had breezed into the room, acting as though a witch suddenly appearing inside the highly protected walls of the school was an everyday occurance. He shooed the still flustered mediwitch off to breakfast, assuring her he would get to the bottom of everything. Hermione had spilled everything to him the second they were alone, her fear at finding herself displaced in time overriding her knowledge of the laws of time travel. She had recovered enough to refrain from using surnames when discussing her best friends, knowing that was a complication she didn't need on top of everything else.

Dumbledore had listened to her tale in rapt silence, his calm face giving nothing away. When she had concluded her recounting with her abrupt coming to just a half hour previous, he smiled down at her, and she felt the knot in her stomach unwind slightly at the familiar twinkle in his eyes.

"I have some friends who might be able to help us out, Ms, Granger," he said calmly, removing his half rimmed spectacles and polishing them on his lilac robes, Hermione unwilling to refer to them as lavender even in her mind. "In the meantime, it would be best if we decided on some sort of cover story to explain your sudden arrival. You gave Ms. Evans quite the fright this morning when she tripped over your unconscious body."

Hermione had startled when she heard the Headmaster refer to Harry's mother so casually, and she began to panic as she realized she would be sharing a school year with the Marauders for however long she was stuck here. If the older wizard noticed her discomfort, he said nothing, choosing instead to glance out the window, seemingly lost in thought as he pondered a way to explain her abrupt appearance. Brightening as he came upon a solution, he reached into his pocket and withdrew something small, extending his hand to Hermione.

"Lemon drop?" he asked, a cheerful smile on his face.

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That was how Hermione had come to be known as Jean Gainer, a refuge from a brutal attack in Berlin of which she was the sole survivor and a distant relative of Cuthbert Binns, the ghost being an obvious choice for their subterfuge as no one would be able to get anything remotely resembling sense out of him, even if they dared to ask him about it directly. Dumbledore had explained something vaguely at dinner that evening about the protections of Hogwarts recognizing her distress and familial ties to the castle, and her obvious bravery in escaping the men who set upon her family had made Gryffindor Tower the most logical place for her to land. To Hermione's immense relief, no one even thought to question any of his nonsense, and the only gossip that surrounded her arrival centered on her non-Sorting, as Gryffindor Tower had already welcomed her with open arms, and, to her great chargin, her unruly hair. She settled into her studies with alacrity, her mind welcoming the familiar routine after her immense upheaval.

Dumbledore had been infuriatingly vague about what she should do about interacting with the future parents of her best friend, his only advice being to 'maintain the integrity of the timeline,' which left far too much to the imagination to make Hermione even remotely comfortable. She had been shocked at the animosity between Harry's future parents, having known nothing about their relationship while they were in Hogwarts. She remembered Lupin saying something about them finally getting together in their seventh year, but she hadn't given any thought to how they would've interacted before that. Lily and her fellow dormmates were quite a welcome change from the ridiculous girls she had roomed with before, and she felt a bond growing with the bright witch with whom she had so much in common. James and the rest of the Marauders had been a disappointment, their immaturity and bullying of others almost too much for Hermione to stomach.

She looked up from her book to see one of the objects of idle pondering walking up to her table, James tossing his book bag on an empty chair before turning to Hermione with a wide grin on his face.

"You ready to tackle the Centaur Wars?" he asked, rummaging around in his bag and emerging with a tattered quill. "Sure you can't get old Uncle Ghosty to ease up on this one? My last essay earned me a Howler."

Glaring at him, Hermione pulled the text she had already pulled on the fighting closer to her.

"I wouldn't dream of it, James," she bit out, annoyance at the wizard getting the better of her. "Some of us actually enjoy the process of gaining knowledge. Besides, I'm not even sure Uncle Bert is even aware of my presence. He seems quite unaware of the additional homework he has to grade, and he hasn't seemed to recognize my name when he is marking my assignments," she continued truthfully, knowing that even if the ghost had been more aware of his surroundings he wouldn't have been able to acknowledge his 'niece'.

"Worth a shot, anyway," James shrugged, grinning at her. "I'll take the weaponry and you can tackle the politics?"

Nodding her agreement, they got to work, the scratching of quills and turning of pages the only sound for the next hour.

Rubbing the back of her neck as she took a break, she thought back on the interactions she had seen between James and Lily. How could they go from hatred to love in such a short time frame? Even if they had gotten together at the end of their seventh year, it seemed a lot to ask of the year they had remaining. Frustrated with her lack of progress with returning to her own time, Hermione decided to do what she could to speed the process along. After all, Dumbledore had only instructed her to maintain the integrity of the timeline, and as she knew they had begun dating at some point the next year, she would see what she could do to ease the relationship along.

"What's the deal with you and Lily?" she asked, casually, returning to her notes as James reddened, almost dropping his quill in surprise.

"M-me and Evans?" he replied, the tremor in his voice causing Hermione to smile.

"Mm-hmm," she replied, her voice deceptively light. "Wicked smart witch, quite a bit taller than me, gorgeous red hair and bright green eyes? Seems to hold an inordinate amount of disdain for you, if you ask me."

"Funnily enough, I don't think I did," James snarled, jabbing his quill at his parchment with a force that alarmed her.

"I was just wondering what you did to make her so testy. In my experience, a witch doesn't harbor such strong feelings for a wizard without just cause," Hermione probed, genuinely curious as to what had caused the animosity.

"She took offense to our handling of Snivellus," James said, dropping his quill on the tabletop. "Why she would be so concerned about that Death Eater toe rag is beyond me."

"Well, I can understand her position, the way you and your friends treat your fellow students is horrid," Hermione said archly. "What I don't understand is why you persist in treating the object of your obvious affections in such a ham handed way. You're acting like a mountain troll, James."

"What would you do, then, know-it-all?" James bristled. "I've tried everything to get to her understand I'm serious, but nothing is working."

"You aren't Sirius, you're James," Hermione retorted without thinking, a smile playing across her face.

James laughed, the sound filling the library and earning them a glare from Madam Pince. "You know what, Gainer, you're alright."

"More than that, I know how to help you," Hermione said, leaning forward, a mischievous look on her face. "Here is what we are going to do…"

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A month later, Hermione found herself enjoying the role of James Potter's pretend girlfriend immensely. A proper Pureblood, he was quite the gentleman when interacting with her. He carried her books, pulled out her chairs, and saved her the biggest pieces of pudding. It was lovely being so cherished, even if it was all an act. He had also refrained from bullying his fellow students, the Marauders keeping their mischievous acts to mere pranks on their fellow students, nothing ill spirited. It seemed to be working, too, Hermione having caught the speculative glances that Lily sent James' way every time he did something to delight his 'girlfriend' or walked away from a situation that would've caused him to lash out before. Just that morning, she had awoken to a house elf holding the largest bouquet of blue hyacinths, coral roses, yellow tulips and simlax she had ever seen, the elf struggling under their weight. After reliving the elf of her burden, she had proclaimed over their beauty and quickly Summoned a tome on the language of flowers, loudly announcing each definition as she found it, smiling inwardly at the initiative James had taken with the book when she loaned it to him a few days previous. Lily had looked a more than a little green at the anniversary gift, and Hermione was sure that it wasn't because she was feeling ill.

She relayed the information to a delighted James later in the common room, taking advantage of a seldom used couch tucked in a corner. Hermione felt a delightful naughitness as she watched her fellow Gryffindors eyeing her in their far from subtle manner, tickled at the thought that they believed them to be whispering sweet nothings when they were actually planning their next steps in the plan to woo Lily Potter. They had been sitting, their heads bent together as they choreographed their next Hogsmeade weekend, when an elf appeared in front of them.

"The Headmaster be needing to see yous, Missy Jean," the elf chirped, holding out a small hand to her.

Rising to her feet, Hermione pretended to swoon as James pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

"I will be counting the minutes until you return to me, Jean," he drawled, winking at her from his seat.

She giggled as she rolled her eyes, the action shielded from the other occupants of the room. Touching the elf's hand, she was Apparated to the Headmaster's Office, smiling at a cheerful looking Dumbledore, who sat behind his desk, a piece of parchment in hand.

"I finally have some good news for you, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore reported, Hermione starting a bit at the use of her real name. "My friend in Brussels has determined what it was that sent you back to us, and she is confident that this is the spell that will be able to send you home."

Hermione sat down with a thump, her heart racing. She had been in 1977 for almost three months, and while she had been anxious to return to her true time, she was admittedly growing comfortable here, enjoying the time she was able to spend with James, Sirius and Remus, her distaste of Peter unable to be broken even as she had a front row seat to their friendship. What would it be like to return now? She ached to see Harry, and her stomach fluttered at the thought of seeing Ron again. How would she explain her absence? Would Dumbledore ensure that her schoolwork transferred to the present? What would she tell James? What could she tell him? Had their ruse been enough to break the animosity Lily held for him?

Interrupting her barreling train of thought, Dumbledore continued.

"I think it would be best if we performed the spell now, Ms. Granger. I should be able to send you back to the moment you left, although much like the spell that sent you here, you will only be sent through time, not physical space. As a result, you will appear in my office, rather than Gryffindor Tower. Since I am still Headmaster in your time, it shouldn't cause too much fuss, as I will now have the memory of sending you there to help me get over the shock of Gryffindor's Prefect suddenly appearing my office. Is that agreeable to you? I will explain everything to James, of course, I am sure he will understand when I tell him your very much alive Great Aunt Mary has been absolutely beside herself with worry about what you have been up to these past three months and won't begrudge you your haste in returning home. Perhaps Ms. Evans will help him nurse his broken heart?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at her as he rose from his desk, walking around it to stand before her.

Looking up at the cheerful wizard, Hermione felt a smile break out across her face. Rising from her seat, she hugged him impulsively before stepping back and squaring her shoulders.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she said sincerely, removing her robes and placing them on the seat she had just vacated. "See you in twenty years!"

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Harry looked up at Hermione, pride threatening to split his face as he looked down at the small pink bundle he held in his arms, James and Albus dancing around the small hospital suite in their delight at finally being able to meet their sister. Ginny smiled tiredly from the bed where Molly was wiping her face with a wet cloth, love radiating from her exhausted face as she looked over at her husband standing with their daughter.

"She's beautiful, Harry," Hermione breathed, her hand resting on her own swollen abdomen, smiling as she felt Hugo kick, remembering a similar moment with her own pink bundle of blankets two years previous. "What is her name?"

"For a long time she was going to be Lily Luna, but a few weeks ago Dudley brought over some of Mum's old journals that Aunt Petunia had tucked away in the attic. I picked one at random, and in it she was talking about a bushy haired girl who appeared out of nowhere one day in March and moved into her dorm. She started dating dad, and just when they had been together about a month, she went home again just as suddenly as she came. She said that if it wasn't for her she never would've seen Dad for the man he could be and fallen in love with him. She said later that if she ever had a daughter she wanted to name her after that know it all witch. So we've decided to honor her wishes and name her Luna Jean, and are quite pleased that she will share a middle name with her know it all, bushy haired Godmother."

Hermione looked up at him, her mouth fallen open in shock. He grinned at her before turning his attention to his mewling daughter, and so she looked over at Ginny, who touched a finger to her nose and winked, laughing.


End file.
